


Raised by Wolves

by windandthestars



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Current Day AU, Ficlet, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Pre-Series, quarantine fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:42:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29385765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windandthestars/pseuds/windandthestars
Summary: “I can sleep on the floor.” She offers placidly and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, because he doesn’t want to be rude, or rather he does, but he’s going to have to live with her, this girl, the associate producer, possibly senior producer, very possibly someone who works on his show.
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Raised by Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a bunch of short fics when quarantine started last year, playing with different timelines and characters. This is one of them: Mac/Will, Moving in, Current day Pre-series AU.
> 
> Warnings for the usual language. No spoilers.

He doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing here, in his foyer with her pile of bags, or rather he does, because someone clearly thinks they have a sense of humor, but he isn’t sure who, so there’s not much he can do to disabuse them of that notion.

“I can sleep on the floor.” She offers placidly and he has to stop himself from rolling his eyes, because he doesn’t want to be rude, or rather he does, but he’s going to have to live with her, this girl, the associate producer, possibly senior producer, very possibly someone who works on his show because he recognizes the names she had offered him, the primetime producer taking over her apartment, his wife and kids safely quarantined at home, the pair of staffers crashing on her pullout sofa.

He’d raised his eyebrows at that, but she’d only laughed and asked him what he thought she’d slept on before she’d been able to afford a bed.

“I just want to do my job,” she’d offered after that, “if your couch is too precious—”

“This isn’t going to be over in a few weeks.”

“I’ve slept in worse places, far more recently than you have.” She shakes her head at him. “I’d sleep at my desk if I thought they’d let me. I just want to do my job.”

“By taking over my living room.”

“It’s a bag of books, a tote of groceries, and some clothes. The duffle is the one with the books.” She clarifies when he looks unconvinced. “Someone mentioned your building has laundry.”

“Who the hell—” he cuts himself off with an aggravated groan. “Don’t touch the heating. Don’t leave dishes in the sink.”

“I pay for my own coffee. Don’t wake you up unless the building’s burning down. Don’t talk during movies, TV, or other serious forms of media. I have lived with people before. I wasn’t raised by wolves.”

“Not wolves.” He says because he can’t tell if she’s baiting him or annoyed, but then she smiles, a bright sparkling smile.

“Oh that’s right,” she grins at him, “you would know. Someone did mention you were raised by baboons.”


End file.
